I woke a sleeping drunk last night, when the train to Interlaken terminated in Spiez due to the onward line being blocked.
He looked at me blurrily and asked whether he needed to catch the onward replacement bus service to get to Grenoble. (Which is in France.)
In other words, he’d staggered onto the wrong train from Bern, fallen asleep while the train was being prepared for a departure delayed by 30 minutes, then travelled half an hour in the wrong direction.
Don’t ride the rails drunk, kids.